


loving her was red

by KelseyO



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, Post 2x19, kelsey has feelings about arrows, slash my own version of 2x20
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-07
Updated: 2015-08-07
Packaged: 2018-04-13 09:36:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4516893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KelseyO/pseuds/KelseyO
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She heard the strain of the string being pulled back and the tense inhale and exhale as one of the Baron’s juiced-up warriors prepared to let the arrow fly, and she only turned around to show them her best bloodstained smile. But even from a distance she could see the crazed look in Danny’s eyes, and the way her fingers were trembling around the arrow’s nock, and she spent one too many microseconds thinking about that rather than about getting the hell out of the way.</p><p>And now there’s a sharp pain in her chest that for once has nothing to do with Laura Hollis, and she would be annoyed at her own idiocy were she not so busy falling to her knees.</p><p>(Expansion and aftermath of 2x19. Title from "Red" by Taylor Swift. Beta'd by tumblr user uselessravenclaw.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	loving her was red

**Author's Note:**

> (I wrote 95% of this between 2x19 and 2x20, so this was not created as a fix-it fic, as dissatisfying as 2x20 was for me.)
> 
> I'm tentatively planning a second chapter, but I work full-time now and am writing an original web series so I'll only add more parts if it's requested of me. So please, let me know what you think! All feelings are appreciated.

If the shooter had been anyone but Danny, she would’ve been able to dodge it; not because Red’s a particularly good markswoman, or because her skill eliminates all chance of escape, but because Carmilla simply wasn’t expecting it.

She heard the strain of the string being pulled back and the tense inhale and exhale as one of the Baron’s juiced-up warriors prepared to let the arrow fly, and she only turned around to show them her best bloodstained smile. But even from a distance she could see the crazed look in Danny’s eyes, and the way her fingers were trembling around the arrow’s nock, and she spent one too many microseconds thinking about that rather than about getting the hell out of the way.

And now there’s a sharp pain in her chest that for once has nothing to do with Laura Hollis, and she would be annoyed at her own idiocy were she not so busy falling to her knees.

“ _Dammit_ , Mircalla!”

Mattie swoops in out of nowhere and snatches her up off the ground, barely letting Carmilla find her footing as she mutters spectacularly vile threats under her breath. She can’t find it in herself to pay any attention to where Mattie’s taking her, but then her toes hit an all-too-familiar front stoop and she grimaces both at the throbbing above her heart and in anticipation of the other kind of pain she’s about to endure.

“Alright, Lolita, time to make yourself useful.”

Carmilla wishes she could open her eyes and gauge Laura’s reaction to all of this, but she stumbles again and slumps further against Mattie and forgets all about potential observations.

“Don’t sit there gawking at us,” Mattie snaps, “get off your ass and help us.”

She feels herself being lowered into Laura’s pseudo-computer chair, of all places—as if Carmilla’s in any sort of shape to tell the camera about this brand new open wound of hers—and she can’t decide if Laura’s scent in her nose, Laura’s fingers digging urgently into her waist, are making all of this better or worse.

“What _happened_?” Laura demands, as she always does, and her voice is so, so close to Carmilla’s ear.

“My sister is bleeding from an arrow-shaped hole in her chest, and I am holding a bloody arrow,” Mattie all but snarls. “Are you really so asinine that you can’t connect the dots yourself?”

Carmilla might have laughed at that if she could breathe properly. “Be nice,” she mutters instead between shallow pants.

The gentlest fingertip brushes a few locks of hair behind her ear. “Who did this to you?” Laura asks, her voice so small that Carmilla’s eyes blink open and find Laura’s peering down at her, worried and sad and angry all at once.

“I don’t know.” She tries to make the words steady and erase all red-headed thoughts from her mind, wills Mattie and Laura to dismiss any tremors in her voice as a byproduct of the wound.

“What do you mean, you don’t know? Your senses used to be _unparalleled_ —”

“I don’t know, okay?” She pauses to grimace at a particularly savage burst of pain and feels Laura shift a fraction closer. “They were well-camouflaged. Stealthier than I’m used to from a human.”

Mattie huffs and slams her fist into the desk, leaving a small dent in the polished wood. “Baron Van Helsing-berg should never have been allowed control of the university. Now he and his legion of undergrad vampire slayers are going to—”

But Carmilla gets buried by a wave of dizziness that fills her ears, covers her eyes, and swallows her whole .

.

She’s not in the chair anymore; she knows that much.

“Thanks, Perr. I know emergency surgery isn’t really your ideal Thursday afternoon, so. Thanks for stitching her up.”

Laura’s voice is somewhere near her head again, and she might try to swat her away if it didn’t cause her an inconvenient amount of pain to move her left arm.

Speaking of which.

She forces her eyes open and glances down at her chest where, beneath her bloody shirt, a bright white bandage is hiding her latest battle scar.

“Carm?”

For a moment, she wishes she would faint again. “Creampuff,” she murmurs, hating how brittle her voice sounds. “How long was I out?”

Laura shrugs. “Just a little while.”

“Where’s Mattie?”

“Getting blood for you. We…” Laura’s staring guiltily down at her lap. “…kind of haven’t replenished the stash in a few weeks.”

Now it’s Carmilla’s turn to shrug, then grimace as the muscles around her wound protest. “I can’t say I blame you.”

Laura meets her eyes for a beat but then looks away again. “Carmilla…”

“Don’t.” Laura’s face falls and Carmilla taps her knuckle against Laura’s knee. “I just wouldn’t want you to put effort into a long-winded speech about relationships and feelings, only to have me pass out again in the middle of your fourth bullet-point.” She watches Laura study her hand for a moment. “Relax, cupcake. We’ve got time.”

Laura glances at Carmilla’s bandage, then up at her with glassy eyes. “What if we don’t?” she asks quietly, and her voice cracks on the last word.

Carmilla opens her mouth to say words she hasn’t quite thought of yet, but Laura cuts her off.

“No, I’m sorry,” she says, hastily wiping the moisture away, “You’re hurt and we don’t have to—” She clears her throat. “Are you still feeling faint? Will you be okay until Mattie gets back?”

Carmilla decides she’ll indulge her, but only because Laura looks like she’s on the verge of a meltdown. “It’s hard to tell. I didn’t feel that last spell coming.”

“Then you should probably have something to tide you over.”

“Probably,” Carmilla agrees, but then Laura pulls up her sleeve and sticks her wrist right in front of Carmilla’s face, and she shakes her head. “If you have some leftover O-neg lying around, then sure, but I’m not drinking from you.”

“Will it help you heal?” Laura asks like she already knows the answer.

Carmilla glares down at her bandage, then at Laura’s arm, then at Laura. “Yes,” she mutters.

“Then take it,” she insists, and her bottom lip is trembling now. “Take my blood.”

“Laura—”

“I _owe_ you,” Laura interrupts as the first tear finally spills. “Please let me do this for you.”

Carmilla shakes her head again. “You don’t owe me anything.”

Laura sniffs and tries to compose herself, but doesn’t take back her arm. “I’ve been terrible to you. I’ve been judgmental and pushy and you deserve _so_ much more than…” She takes a deep, shaky breath. “Please. Just let me help you with this.”

There’s a small piece of her brain that’s telling her to be a good, valiant little vampire and refuse the limb that’s being dangled in front of her, but a much larger portion can smell, _hear_ the blood swimming through Laura’s veins…

And really, what’s the point of being undead if you can’t occasionally--even justifiably--reap the benefits?

“Please,” Laura repeats, now sounding more determined than anything.

Carmilla’s tongue sneaks out to wet her lips before she can stop it, and she supposes there are worse things in the world than using your ex-girlfriend’s body to expedite healing your own.

She uses her right hand to hold Laura’s wrist steady, waits for Laura to give her one more affirming nod, and doesn’t miss Laura’s flinch or the flexing of her tendons as Carmilla’s teeth sink into her skin.

Delicious warmth floods her mouth and she’s not so lost in the moment that she doesn’t try to find Laura’s eyes, but they’re closed tightly and Carmilla pauses after a few long sips.

“Laura.”

“Is it working?” Laura asks without moving a muscle, and sounding tense and scared and a lot of other things that make Carmilla not want to be sucking her blood.

She tries to lick away some of the crimson she can feel coating her lips. “Cupcake,” she says gently.

Laura warily opens one eye, then other, and Carmilla holds her gaze as she shifts her hold on Laura’s arm, moving down her wrist, along the back of her palm, and over her knuckles until their fingers lace together.

When she begins to drink again, Laura doesn’t look away.

“Laura, I need to—” Danny’s very frantic voice suddenly blurts as the door bursts open, but the rest of the sentence dies in her throat as she takes in the sight of Carmilla sucking on Laura’s artery.

To her credit, Laura doesn’t try to jerk away. “Danny, it’s okay. I’m just giving her a boost while we wait for—”

“No no no no, it’s _not_ okay,” Danny retorts, and Carmilla notes the thin layer of sweat coating her skin, the slight trembling in her hands, the way she’s breathing like she sprinted all the way here.

Carmilla takes in another mouthful before carefully extracting her mouth from Laura’s arm. “Go clean yourself up,” she instructs, “I’ll be fine until Mattie gets back.”

Laura glances at Danny before turning back to Carmilla. “Are you sure you’ll be okay with—?”

“Yes,” she interrupts, nodding toward the bathroom. “Now go, your Gryffindor band-aids are waiting.”

The fingers intertwined with hers somewhat reluctantly release their hold and Laura gets to her feet. “Both of you better behave,” she warns and points a stern finger at Danny on her way out, but Danny is so busy staring at Carmilla that she may not have even heard Laura’s voice.

“What does he have you on?” Carmilla asks without preamble.

Danny pushes her hair out of her face and crosses her arms tightly across her chest. “I’m not sure, exactly. I’ve been wanting to bring a sample to the Alchemy Club for testing but I don’t know who I can trust.” She’s working her jaw muscle and can’t seem to stay still. “Carmilla, I never would’ve—”

“I know.”

“I-I knew I couldn’t stop myself from shooting that arrow… all I could do was make sure the aim was off.”

“True friendship,” Carmilla says dryly.

Danny looks like she kind of wants to laugh at that, but then her body language sags. “Look, I just want Laura to hear it from me.”

Carmilla arches an eyebrow. “Hear what?”

“That I’m the one who did this to you.”

Her wound screams beneath its bandage as she sits up on the couch and looks Danny square in the eye. “She’s not going to hear it at all.”

Danny’s shaking her head. “What are you talking about?”

Carmilla chews on several different responses before pinching the bridge of her nose. “You better have your best subpar human listening-ears on, because I’m only saying this once.”

She nods.

“Laura needs you. More than anyone in this stupid house needs to put a face and a name behind that arrow, and more than I need the satisfaction of Laura hating you, or being annoyingly conflicted about whether she _should_ hate you.”

“That’s not—”

“She has her own pseudo-mother, and her own walking, talking science lab, and sometimes she has her selfish, reckless vampire girlfriend. But you’re her _rock_.”

Danny’s eyes have been pointed determinedly at the floor, but now they find Carmilla’s.

“And I can’t take that away from her.”

She actually sniffs. “I was gonna tell you that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, but I think that’s the _only_ nice thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Carmilla waves her off. “Now let’s never speak of it again.”

“Why aren’t you lying down?” Laura scolds as she returns to the room, and Danny nearly jumps out of her skin.

“Because my body is perfectly capable of healing in a vertical position.”

Laura gives her a look, but decides to focus on Danny instead. “And weren’t you, like, totally freaking out a second ago?”

“No! I mean, yeah, sort of. I just, um…” Danny shakes her head to clear it. “With all that’s been happening around campus—y’know, _with_ said vampire slaying—I wanted to…” She glances at Carmilla and shrugs. “I wanted to make sure you… that you both were safe.”

“Wow, that…” Laura looks back and forth between her and Carmilla. “That was really sweet of you.”

Danny shrugs again. “Don’t mention it,” she mumbles, and jerks her thumb over her shoulder. “Anyways, I should probably go.”

“Y’know,” Carmilla begins as she licks a few stray drops of blood from her fingertips, “If there’s anyone on this hell-hole of a campus you can trust to find out what’s in those steroids, it’s the science ginger upstairs.” She shrugs and runs her tongue along her top row of teeth. “If I were you, I’d put them on the case.”

Laura is watching the both of them again, and Danny nods slowly.

“Yeah, I think I’ll do that.” She heads for the doorway but pauses just beyond the threshold. “By the way, Laura—you’re right.”

“About what?”

Danny’s eyes flicker to Carmilla one more time. “About everything.”


End file.
